Forever You and Me
by brookeAp3
Summary: Regina Mills and Robin Locksley have been best friends since birth, fostered by their parents connection and friendship with each other. Catch a glimpse into their lives through the years as they celebrate Christmas together and their love for one another grows.


**A/N: Thank you to the OQ Advent Team for allowing me to make this gift. I hope you enjoy these two as much as I've loved writing them.**

Henry Mills and Helen Locksley have been friends since high school. Her family had graciously hosted him on his semester abroad in London his junior year. When the two of them had hit it off, his own parents had returned the favor the following summer. For years they'd communicated through letters and phone calls, keeping up with each other's lives and new adventures. Good old fashioned pen pals for what felt like forever.

It's rare to find a true friendship like theirs. One that can stand the test of time and distance, but that's what the two of them have always had. From the moment they'd met it had been easy, effortless. Two platonic halves.

So when he'd discovered that Helen had married her college sweetheart and was moving to the states for a job opportunity her husband couldn't turn down, one that just so happened to be in the city he'd grown up in, the one she'd spent three months exploring and falling in love with all those moons ago, Henry had been overjoyed.

When she'd also informed him a month after her arrival that they were expecting a new addition to their family, he'd been thrilled for her. Henry Mills could not imagine a better mother in the world than the one Helen Locksley would make. When their son, Robin, arrived just seven months later one hot summer day, he'd been an adorable little boy.

He and Cora had been expecting by then as well. A fact that Henry was over the moon about. He could imagine nothing more rewarding than having a child to love and spoil. One of life's greatest joys.

Beyond that, their children would be able to grow up together. A twist of fate that would prove to be more than either of them ever could have hoped for. The timing could not have been more perfect. But then life is funny that way.

Helen and Henry couldn't help themselves from making all sorts of plans. Play dates between Robin and the little girl he was expecting. Trips to the zoo and the park. Holiday traditions. Family vacations between the six of them. The possibilities were endless.

It had started with Thanksgiving and Henry inviting Helen and Richard over to introduce them to the American custom. Turkey and stuffing and a little baby boy that Henry kept glued to his chest for a majority of the day, much to his mother's amusement. Thankfully, Cora put up no objections to his friendship with the other woman. In fact, she gets along with his friend's husband well enough (shockingly, as the other man is rather rambunctious, but they bond over politics and a love for antiques and leave Henry and Helen to themselves often enough) that it's common they trade off conversations while the four of them are together.

The Locksleys had been all set to return the gesture come Christmas. Unfortunately, in the last trimester of pregnancy, Cora had been unwell, ordered to bed rest and they'd missed the chance to celebrate the holiday together.

When Regina was born one stormy night in the middle of winter some months later, she immediately and utterly became their whole world.

The following Christmas had proven to be poor timing once more when Richard and Helen made a trip home to England to show off little Robin to their relatives, and Cora's family insisted they travel up to Maine to spend the holiday with them to see their granddaughter.

So another year of weekly playdates and afternoons strolling through the park pass them by. And in that time Henry and Helen grow even closer than ever before, that comradery and friendship extending to each of their spouses and children as well. The months had passed while Regina and Robin had grown cuter and sweeter by the day.

This year, though, they get to spend Christmas as the odd family they've become. It's interesting to be certain, with a toddler and a crawling infant to keep track of. Even as Robin tries to pull all the ornaments from the tree and Henry has to constantly keep Regina from eating the pine needles, there's laughter heard throughout the house.

Robin's old enough now to get excited about what's going on too, even if he doesn't comprehend everything. He understands enough to giggle merrily over the presents under the tree, to let Helen help him tear tiny strips of the wrapping paper off one by one until he unveils his new toy. When he turns and does the same for Regina, as she swats at the present in front of her from Henry's lap on the floor, helping her out, it warms all of their hearts. Even at two, he's so good at taking care of her.

There's a sense of rightness to the entire affair that they all feel in kind. A calm sort of chaos that befits the spirit of the holiday. None of them can imagine celebrating this special time of year any other way.

And so begins a tradition that will last for decades to come.

/ / /

When she is seven years old, the Locksleys spend the holiday at their house. It's become a custom, alternating hosting. One of them does Christmas, the other New Years, and the following year it switches. Has been so since nearly those first few Christmases together.

The evening starts as any other. Helen, Richard, and Robin arrive at promptly six o'clock, and the adults send the children off to the playroom to occupy themselves while Regina's parents entertain their guests and her father finishes up preparing dinner. Mother doesn't cook. Would have the entire meal catered were it not for the fact that Henry insists on making the holiday special, starting with a good, strong, home cooked meal.

"Let's play hide and seek!" Regina requests, turning on Robin once they're alone.

He nods in agreement but demands, "Okay, but only if I get to seek."

"You always want to seek," Regina whines, though she's quite adept at hiding. One time it had taken Robin nearly an hour to find her, hidden in the crawl space beneath the staircase. Mother had been furious at the dirt on her clothing, but it had been well worth it to best Robin at a game he believes himself to be superior at.

Robin shrugs, holds up his hands in mock innocence and declares, with all the authority his eight year old self can muster, "That's because I'm better at it."

That does the trick, has young Regina putting her back up, determination littering her tone as she agrees to his terms and then orders him to count to fifty and not to cheat before she's darting off. It takes her fifteen of those precious seconds to decide on the ideal hiding location. She can't hide anywhere that she might get her red silk dress dirty. Mother would kill her. But there are plenty of other adequate places in their house, and as one of them pops into her head, she's gone.

The minutes tick by, for what feels like an eternity from where Regina is hidden in the linen closet off of the laundry room. This is the worst part. The waiting. Wondering when Robin is going to find her. But the longer it takes, the more it means that she's won this round, so she waits.

Finally, the door of the closet swings open, and it's not Robin on the other side but her father. "Daddy!" Regina exclaims in surprise.

He chuckles, shakes his head and she grins up at him a bit sheepishly. "Found you. Dinner is ready and as fun as it would be to continue to watch Robin tear apart the house looking for you, I think it best we don't keep everyone waiting, don't you?"

Regina agrees, happily trailing after him. When they enter the dining room to find everyone already seated, she slips into her seat beside Robin and can't quite help leaning toward him to whisper so only he can hear her, "I win."

Robin rolls his eyes at her taunt and digs into his mashed potatoes, but Regina's triumphant smile doesn't fade all through dinner.

. . .

They're allowed one present each on Christmas Eve. That's the rule. No matter how tempting the pile of presents beneath the glittering tree appears. Robin tears into his, scattering shreds of paper in a heap around him as he unveils a shiny, silver Talkboy. Regina opens the prettily gold and red wrapped package, setting aside the elaborate bow and unpeeling the paper carefully. The brunette Cabbage Patch doll with big blue eyes and a pretty dress is exactly what she'd wanted, and her face lights up as her gaze lifts to find her father's, who's grinning eagerly at her.

"Do you like it, sweetheart?"

"I love it! Thank you!" Her eyes move to her mother, watching her with less enthusiasm, but there's a smile on the woman's face that isn't always there. "Thank you, Mother."

"You're welcome," she replies, a hint of warmth in her tone even as she says, "your father picked it out."

That isn't a surprise. Daddy had known how badly she'd wished for this exact gift, had listened to her beg for it for the better part of the last month after she'd seen the doll when they'd been out one Saturday afternoon. Just the two of them.

But she loves it all the same.

"Well, you kids best be off to bed." Helen's sweet voice rings through the room a short while later as Henry and Richard move to gather up the discarded wrapping paper. Robin starts to protest, wanting longer to play with his new toy, but she simply insists, "They'll be plenty of time to play tomorrow. Wouldn't want to risk Santa flying right over the house."

The weather's picked up in the time they've been here and there are fat, wet flurries falling rapidly from the sky, coating the entire outside world in a sheet of white. Their parents had decided it would be better if the Locksleys simply spent the night rather than risk the drive home in this weather.

Cora tsks at the comment, but one sharp look from Henry keeps her from saying anything else on the matter. The moment goes completely unnoticed by Robin, utterly distracted by his Talkboy, fiddling with the nobs. It doesn't escape Regina's attention, however, and as she quietly gathers up her doll, cradling it to her body, and dutifully lets her mother kiss her forehead goodnight before she heads toward her room, she says nothing.

. . .

It's late. Surely past midnight when Regina sneaks her way into the guest room Robin is staying in, tiptoeing quietly down the hallway so as not to even chance disturbing her mother. Daddy wouldn't care. Would just send her back to bed with a soft admonishment that Santa can't come if she's not asleep.

But Regina's not so sure he's coming at all, the fear having weighed on her for most of the night, a lingering fear in the back of her mind, as she and Robin had been playing, the adults chatting and laughing while leaving them to their own devices. Mother's words from a few days ago repeating themselves over and over again in her mind. She hadn't brought it up earlier, not wanting to sound childish and risk her mother's anger. Or to upset Daddy. And she knows if he had known what Cora had told her he'd be upset.

No, instead, Regina had listened to Robin's mother comment and speculate on whether he'd been a good enough boy to warrant a visit from the old man, a playful grin on her lips the entire time while they'd been at dinner. All the while her confusion and distrust warring inside her while she'd eaten her cranberry sauce.

She'd remained silent, her mother's disapproving glare during the conversation enough to keep Regina quiet about the big, burly man in the red suit. But now, in the darkest hour of the night, with the clock ticking down to morning, Regina is unable to keep the worry from itching at her.

So here she is.

He's sleeping, tucked under his comforter with only that messy mop of hair peeking through as he's facing the wall. Probably exactly as Helen had left him when she'd put him to bed and wished him goodnight and happy dreams. Just as Daddy had done with her. Regina closes the door at her back with a near inaudible click and then uses the sliver of moonlight slanting across the room to pad softly over to Robin's bed. She reaches out a single finger to poke his shoulder gently. "Robin," Regina hisses, stabbing her finger a bit more firmly into his body until she hears a soft grunt and he groans and burrows deeper into his pillow.

With a huff, Regina repeats the motion, murmuring again, "Roooobin, wake up."

The boy grumbles a bit, but finally rolls himself over to his other side, blinking his eyes open and frowning at her. "Regina? What are you doing here?" His voice is scratchy with sleep and she almost feels bad for waking him up, for not staying in her own room where she belongs.

But this is _Robin,_ and if there's anyone that she trusts enough to spill her doubts and concerns to it's him. Even though he's a boy and can be gross and weird sometimes, he's still her best friend. One she's known all her life and he's promised to always protect her, hasn't he? She can be honest with him.

Regina bites her bottom lip, rocking uncomfortably on the balls of her feet as she asks, "Can I climb in with you?"

His brow draws together in confusion, but there must be something in her tone, because Robin doesn't hesitate, scoots closer to the opposite end of the bed and makes room for her on the mattress. Regina climbs in immediately, letting the cocooning warmth of the down comforter and Robin's radiating body heat ease her anxiety some.

"What's wrong?" He asks, more awake now than he'd been a moment ago.

It's another minute before Regina musters up her courage to ask quietly, "Do you think Santa is really coming?"

"Huh?" She can just barely make out the bewilderment in his bright blue eyes in the dim lighting, and suddenly Regina feels quite foolish. Maybe this was a mistake. Perhaps she should have just stayed in her room and waited until morning. Robin's voice isn't accusatory in the slightest however when he continues with, "Why would you say that?"

"Mommy says he isn't real," Regina whispers breathily, as if it won't be true if she doesn't say the words loudly enough.

His scoff echoes through the room as he shakes his head and wiggles a bit closer to her, as if he knows she needs his reassurance. "Well that's just silly. Of course he's real!" Robin insists.

Still, Regina wonders. "How do you know?" she asks.

"Because he always comes. It's Christmas magic. And we've both been good this year." He pauses at that, considering, before a sheepish smirk quirks at the corners of his lips and he amends, "Well, good enough." It makes Regina laugh, thinking of all the mischief she has let him talk her into in the last three hundred and sixty five days.

And she supposes that's true. After all, she's never woken up on a Christmas morning to an empty tree, at least several presents labeled from Santa. Plus, Daddy had helped her write out a list to the mystical man and they'd gone and mailed it in plenty of time for it to arrive at the North Pole. Surely, he wouldn't have taken the time for that if he weren't real. "But why would she lie?" Regina asks in the midst of her musings.

"Your mom is weird sometimes," Robin shrugs, head propped up on his elbow as he looks down at her.

Giggling at that, Regina nods in agreement and with that simple statement, she feels infinitely better. Robin easing her worries. Of course Santa is real. She was stupid to ever doubt it. "Thanks, Robin," she murmurs, smiling up at him.

He grins down at her, tickles her side and makes her gasp in surprise, one of his favorite methods of tormenting her, even if it's all in good fun. "Sure," he replies before his tone turns serious, "but we gotta get to sleep _now_ or he really won't show up. I don't know about you, but I'm counting on him for that Nintendo."

Regina nods, a yawn escaping her before she can help it. It seems the late hour has finally caught up to her and with her mind no longer racing with concerns, her body feels heavy with fatigue. "Can I just stay here for awhile?"

"Yeah," Robin answers, settling down again and maneuvering himself back into a comfortable position on his back.

The both of them are asleep in a matter of minutes.

. . .

She's still snuggled in the guest bedroom with Robin when the birdsong of morning begins, the misty light of predawn illuminating the room through the window. They'd drifted a bit closer in slumber and her nose is tucked against his shoulder, his hand laying over hers in the space between them on the mattress.

Consciousness comes with Robin's gentle prodding, followed by a hissed whisper of her name. "Regina, wake up. It's morning!" When his words bring no response from her, Robin shakes her a bit harder, "Come on, get up. Let's go see what Santa brought!"

That does it, has Regina's eyes opening immediately as she blurrily looks up at Robin's beaming face. For a brief second, her stomach swoops. A lingering fear from the previous night. Surely Robin's right though and the treasured tradition of Santa Claus still lives.

Regina can practically feel Robin buzzing with anticipation. A palpable energy in the early morning atmosphere and she smiles at him, finding his enthusiasm infectious. "Okay, let's go," she answers.

The pair of them race out of the guest room, barrelling down the steps and rounding the bend toward the living room where their gigantic evergreen is located. Robin's ahead of her, height and the benefit of a year of growth over her winning out. He whoops eagerly even as Regina hesitates at the doorway, but Robin turns back to her, reaching out a hand encouragingly. It calms her nerves, and Regina places her palm in his open one as he tugs her into the room laughing.

And there it is. The pile of presents they'd left under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree yesterday evening now doubled. Positively spilling out into the room as she scurries to take a closer look, and her face lights up as she reads one of the tags.

 _To: Regina_

 _Love: Santa_

Her eyes meet Robin's, one of his presents in his hand as he tells her cheekily, "Told you so."

She rolls her eyes and rips off the ribbon on the package she's holding to toss it at him. Then the two of them are digging in. Gasping and aweing as their parents make their way less hurriedly downstairs for the morning's festivities.

/ / /

The annual Mills-Locksley holiday bash is in full swing by eight o'clock on December 24th.

 _Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree_ playing over the sound system, tinsel and garland tastefully hung over the mantle and around the banister, people laughing and milling about. Merriment dripping from every inch of the house.

As she and Robin had gotten older, their families had extended their tradition of spending the holiday together to their friends, family, and coworkers. It's turned into one of the highlights of the year for many of the people they know.

Regina's watching her father chatting with one of his employees across the room, smiling at how happy he is this time of year, when a familiar voice murmurs into her ear from behind.

"Your mother may be crazy, but I have to give her credit, she knows how to throw a damn good party." Mal comments, glass of eggnog in hand. Likely the spiked, adult version if Regina knows her friend any. Not that she can blame her when her friends parents had bailed on her for the holiday. Even if she had played it off, Regina's glad the blonde's able to spend the evening with all of them instead of alone at home.

The observation makes Regina snicker into her warm, spiced apple cider, doing her best to hide her grin even as she twists her head to eye Mal with an amused expression. "That she does. Wouldn't want anyone else to show her up now would we?"

"Oh no, not at all. That would be a travesty, dear." Mal answers in an over dramatic tone of voice, weirdly sounding exactly like Cora would. The two of them laugh over it for another minute before Mal pauses, that predatory glint in her eye as she mutters, "Mmmmm. Hottie at two o'clock." Her gaze focused just beyond Regina's shoulder.

The brunette turns around, eager to see who her friend could possibly mean. She knows most everyone at this party after all and hasn't a clue who she could be referring to. When her eyes land on her best friend, Regina's oldest friend, surprise flickers through her.

Robin? Sure, he's attractive. Has grown into himself quite nicely, she supposes. Survived the awkward, gangly years of early puberty (though she has the visual evidence should she ever need it as leverage against him in the future). But it's difficult to think of someone you see on a nearly day to day basis warranting the look that Mal is giving him.

Or it should be. Were it not for the dueling sensations of attraction and disbelief that churn in her gut as he makes his way toward them, Mal hissing excitedly in her ear.

Suddenly it hits her. When had Robin gone from her dorky playmate to the hot captain of the soccer team that has her closest girlfriend salivating and smiling flirtily at him across the room? She's not really thought of it before this moment. At least not much. It's not that she's ever found him repulsive looking, not even when they'd been younger. Regina has always considered him to be cute. But he's her friend. The goofy boy who'd chased her around the backyard and tickled her until she hadn't been able to breathe. The one who'd been playing pranks on her for years and who'd stood up to every person that's ever teased her in her life.

Listening to Mal talk about how she wouldn't mind unwrapping him for Christmas, however, Regina realizes it's like one day he'd gone from being _Robin_ , to the guy all the girls whispered about as he walked the hallways. Now that she thinks about it, she can easily name five girls in her class who would give their right arm to be able to go out on a date with him. Her closest girlfriend being one of them.

Even more confusing than that, is that Regina's heart has started to flutter in her chest when he's around, though she's buried it under the ruse of familiarity. It's making its presence known now though as her stomach swoops and swirls when he gives her that trademark dimpled grin of his from twenty paces away. It's weird. She doesn't know what to do about it in the slightest.

Particularly this year, when they've finally graduated to being able to spend Christmas with their parents and their friends. Neither of them are being ushered upstairs quickly and quietly after dinner. It's been _years_ since the pair of them have snuck peeks at the presents under the tree and stuck their heads together wondering if Santa will bring them their heart's desire.

They've caught his attention now, and Regina watches with a sudden, unfamiliar sense of panic (so foreign to how she's ever felt around him before) as Robin weaves his way through the room toward them. "Hey, guys. Enjoying the party?"

"The eggnog is delicious," Mal answers him, lifting her glass and winking at him flirtily, making Robin laugh knowingly.

"I bet. Regina's dad always makes it strong. I've never been a fan myself."

"That's a shame," Mal replies, taking another sip.

Robin merely shrugs, eyes Regina's cup and then snags it out of her hand, smirking at her protest of _Hey! That's mine. Get your own!_ "Mmmmm, I like yours better. It's got the secret ingredient." Regina rolls her eyes, giving him a gentle shove before she snatches her glass back possessively.

"Hands off."

"Spoilsport."

Well, at least that hasn't changed, Regina thinks to herself as she and Robin banter. Deep down, he's still the annoying pest who's been like a big brother to her for years. Her best friend. The person she'd trust with all her secrets without hesitation. Whatever odd feelings she may or may not be having toward him and his sudden good looks are probably just her hormones going wonky. They don't change the foundation of their friendship.

Robin shifts the conversation then, attention focused on Regina as he asks, "So whatcha get me?"

"Who says I got you anything?" She sasses back, as Robin tosses an arm around her shoulder and ribs her some more. All very normal. Perhaps that brief moment of uncertainty toward him had just been a fluke.

He sticks around for another ten minutes, teasing both of them and commenting on how Cora had outdone herself this year before he spots a buddy with his parents across the room. "Catch you two later," Robin calls over his shoulder as he bids them goodbye.

. . .

Regina doesn't see him again for another hour after that. She's lost Mal somewhere, is standing in the doorway between the family room and the kitchen as she contemplates going to hunt her down or opting for another cup of cider when Robin finds her.

"Hello, my friend. Can I interest you in splitting one of these delicious snickerdoodle cookies? Mum made them."

He's holding out half of the torn sweet to her, and Regina chuckles, accepting the offered treat. "Your mom's cookies are the best."

"I know," Robin grins, leaning back against the frame of the doorway and chewing his own portion of baked dough. "I've had four already."

Before Regina has a chance to admonish him, her dad is calling over to the pair of them from a few paces away, standing with Robin's mother and father. "Well what do we have here?" His voice garners both Regina and Robin's attention and then their eyes turn upward, each of their gazes lifting simultaneously, as he gestures above their heads.

Mistletoe. Of course.

For a moment they both stand there, bewildered with the implication. Which is ridiculous. They've known each other for fifteen years. It's not like they've never been affectionate in that time. Even during the inevitable cooties phase Robin had always been sweet to her.

But they've never kissed.

And no matter what way you cut it, even an innocent kiss for show beneath the mistletoe (with their parents watching, no less, how racy could it get?) it feels like a big deal. Like some step that might turn their easy friendship into something weird. She will not think about those butterflies that had jumped into her stomach when Mal had noticed him earlier, how parts of her have started to see him differently, whether she acknowledges or ignores those feelings. No, she will not.

She's never kissed anyone, in fact.

An uncomfortable mixture of panic and excitement bubbles up within Regina at the prospect of her first kiss. Nerves skitter just beneath her skin, like a buzzing that tickles her flesh as her dark brown eyes stare up at Robin's clear blue. She can't read him. Something that's rarely happened in all their years of knowing each other. He seems just as uncertain about what they should do as Regina does though and for that she is grateful.

"Oh, just kiss the girl and get it over with," Richard calls, more than a little into the eggnog at this point in the evening and even with the gentle nudge that Helen elbows him with, the adults in the room are all chuckling.

The audience doesn't help the awkwardness that has suddenly descended upon them. There's a tension in the air between them and neither of them have any clue what to do about it.

Robin is the one that makes the first move, finally breaking the stalemate with a slow step toward her. "What do you say, Regina? It's Christmas after all, don't want to mess with tradition right?" There's a dopey grin on his face, one that screams _teenager_ and _male_ , as she nods her consent, one that has his dimples winking and the familiarity of the expression is enough to have her feeling comfortable again.

That is until he bends his head and angles his mouth over hers.

His lips are warm, pressing firmly against hers and a spark zings through her entire body, starting from where their mouths are joined. There's a bit of light stubble littering his chin. She's been teasing him about his attempts to grow his slowly emerging facial hair out for weeks, but the way it scratches against her skin is surprisingly pleasant.

Parting his mouth ever so slightly, Regina catches the faintest hint of cinnamon and sugar, remnants of the cookies he'd devoured earlier, and has to choke back a quiet groan that ripples up in her throat. It's odd. New. But also wonderful and she does her best to mirror his actions as the seconds drag on.

He keeps the kiss perfectly chaste. Entirely appropriate for two teenagers beneath the mistletoe while their parents look on. Even as Robin's hand settles on her hip while the other cups her cheek gently, the pad of his thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek. Just when she thinks she might combust from the onslaught of foreign feelings, Robin pulls away.

Perhaps if she were older, more knowledgeable, she might recognize the signs of inexperience from him. The blundering edges to the kiss and the slight hesitation in his movements, how their noses clumsily bump against one another.

But for Regina, it is perfect. More than she ever imagined for her first kiss and the very fact that it had come from _Robin_ , her best friend, blows her away. She feels her face flush as he stares down at her, those familiar cobalt blues now several shades darker, sporting a hint of something she doesn't recognize, and Regina bites her bottom lip before her eyes flicker back to their audience.

Henry and Richard are chortling with each other, but Helen is eyeing them curiously, a rather knowing, _motherly_ look in her eye and Regina's embarrassment over the entire matter rises tenfold. What is happening to her?

Clearing his throat, Robin takes a step back from her, smiling sheepishly in that adorable way of his. "Right, well—" The dimples are smiling in his face as his voice trails off and Regina feels a blush rise to her cheeks quite unexpectedly.

Just then she spots Mal emerging from the bathroom down the hallway and quickly excuses herself, desperate for the offered escape from whatever awkwardness had just ensued and it's aftermath.

Robin's gaze follows her until she and the blonde disappear up the steps.

. . .

It's still on his mind as he wraps his scarf around his neck, folds his arms into his wool coat and moves to take the pile of gifts from his mother's arms. Neither he nor Regina had spoken about their spontaneous kiss beneath the mistletoe for the rest of the evening. All through the exchange of presents and last dregs of the party, they had avoided the topic.

Not that he really wants to bring it up.

After all, it had been weird. Kissing his best friend. Awkward and odd.

Marvelous.

It's that singular adjective that has been gnawing at Robin. He'd _liked_ it. Had enjoyed feeling Regina's lips beneath his own and the way her hip had felt beneath his hand. He'd had to stop himself from deepening it further. From running his fingers into her long, dark locks and pulling her body flush against his with the hand he'd had at her hip. Not when they'd been in full view of their parents, none of the three of them even bothering to pretend not to be watching them.

Even so, he's never thought about her in that way before. There are plenty of lasses to keep him otherwise occupied. One kiss with Regina isn't going to change that. Besides, they're friends. Always have been. Always will be. Robin would never, in a million years, do anything to potentially ruin the precious bond they've had since infancy. She's too important to him for that.

Surely it was merely a fluke. A by product of the holiday. Regina is his oldest friend, nothing more.

Consequently, he pretends as if everything is fine. Nudges her playfully with his shoulder when she wraps an arm around him to wish him goodnight as his arms are laden with packages. Even when she pops up on her toes and pecks a quick kiss to his cheek, Robin acts completely normal. Wishes Henry and Cora a Merry Christmas and follows his parents out into the light snowfall.

On the short ride home, he determines it must have been something about the holiday. Christmas magic in the air, or the shot of whiskey he'd nicked, to have made him question everything he's known for the last fifteen years of his life.

Nothing's changed.

/ / /

Christmas is one of his favorite times of year. Even moreso since he'd left for college four years ago. Not that Robin would ever openly admit to it, but he misses his mom and his dad. A few of his high school buddies he only has the opportunity to catch up with for the few short weeks he's home between semesters. And he misses his best friend.

Not seeing Regina every day had been the biggest adjustment for Robin to make after graduation. No more hanging out after school, grabbing an extra coffee on his way in during the morning, or spending Saturdays marathoning movies in his den. He'd gotten used to it. For the most part. Has had a few years of practice at this point, and they'd found ways to stay in touch, to keep that bond sturdy, but it doesn't mean he doesn't look forward to having quality time with her during winter break also.

It's been months since he's seen her. With the two of them off at separate colleges and busy with coursework and friends, expanding their academic and life knowledge. But they still text and call each other regularly, moan about their professors and the endless lectures and papers they're forced to suffer. However, it's not the same. Robin supposes that's just the nature of growing up though.

In fact, he's been back a week and they still haven't managed to line up their schedules. So when Christmas Eve arrives and he and his parents head over to the Mills' as they always do, Robin is wrought with anticipation to see Regina.

Henry answers the door, a wide, easy smile on his face as he greets them and ushers them inside out of the frigid air. "Merry Christmas! Come in, come in." He turns his attention to Robin when they've shelled out of their coats and pulls him into a big bear hug that makes him grin. This man is as much of a father to him as his own and it just wouldn't be the holidays without his never ending cheer. "Look at you!" Henry tells him, laying his hands on both of Robin's shoulders as he studies him. "You've turned into a strapping young man. Hope school's still going well for you."

"It is," Robin tells him. Just a few more months and he'll be finished. He's already started job hunting, has applied for a few summer internships around the country. As his parents chat with Henry for a few minutes, Robin does his best not to shift impatiently. His attention is clearly elsewhere nonetheless, anxiously seeking out sounds of Regina, and despite his efforts, Henry notices with a sly smirk.

"Well, come on, everyone's in the living room around the fire. It's too cold this year for anything else." Henry informs them and the trio follows him deeper into the house. When they step across the threshold, however, Robin is taken aback.

Cora sits in her elegant, high back Fauteuil chair as she usually does. An antique that neither he nor Regina had ever been allowed to touch when they'd been children. That's not what throws him, however. No, that honor comes from the sight of Regina nestled beside a dark haired man on the rug in front of the fireplace beside the tree. He has an arm slung around her shoulders and she's leaning into his side, smiling up at him over something he's said.

Robin's never seen her look at anyone that way, with that unmistakable twinkle of love and affection. Infatuation, he thinks. Not her boyfriend in high school, not that Graham Hunt had ever been worthy of her, nor the dude she'd briefly dated in her freshman year.

"Look who's finally arrived!" Henry announces as he takes his place on the couch, Helen following him and settling in next to him as Richard moves to sit in the chair opposite Regina's mother.

"Robin!" Regina exclaims, shifting her attention from the mysterious stranger and setting those dark chocolate eyes on him.

She's detangling herself from his hold and bolting across the room, throwing her arms around him before he knows it. The move knocks Robin back a step but his arms come to encircle her tiny waist instinctively, holding her body to his as he grins and tucks his nose into her hair for a second. This is familiar. The comfort of home he'd been so anxious to have. "Hey, kid. Long time no see."

Her laughter echoes in his ear even as she pulls back and scrunches her nose at the term, just as he'd expected it to, but smiles at him. "Back at you, stranger." Regina's head whips around to look at the man still seated on the floor and then back to Robin, grabbing his hand as she adds, "Come meet Daniel."

Right. Daniel. Her boyfriend.

Robin should have realized. Who else would Regina be cozied up with? She'd mentioned him repeatedly over the last few months, since he'd charmed her outside of their eighteenth century art history course, if he recalls correctly. Or at least, that's how Regina had described the encounter to him. But Robin hadn't thought much over it.

Certainly had not expected her to bring the bloke home for Christmas. That's not something she would do lightly. And the knowledge, coupled with the look he'd noted in her gaze earlier makes him realize that she must be serious about this one.

"Robin, Daniel. Daniel, Robin." Regina introduces with a beaming smile and takes her place on the rug beside him once more.

He shakes the hand the other man offers, a bit of a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes as he says, "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Regina's told me a lot about you and how you two grew up together." Well, at least there's that, Robin thinks darkly as he chooses to take the remaining seat open on the couch. He sits beside his mother who pats his knee affectionately and smiles at him before turning back to continue her conversation with Henry.

The evening passes as it usually does. Henry and Cora had decided to go for a smaller affair this year, just their two families. Like the old days. All through dinner, Robin watches Regina and the way she interacts with Daniel. Flirty smiles and hooded looks beneath her lashes. As dessert is served, Daniel leans back in his chair, lays an arm over the back of Regina's and Robin watches as she places a hand on his thigh and leans back into his touch.

He doesn't know why it bothers him so, only that it does.

. . .

Everyone shuffles their way back into the living room after the meal at their own pace, stuffed and brimming now that they've gorged themselves on the product of Henry's delicious culinary skills. Helen stays in the kitchen to help Henry clean up the dishes as Cora insists on showing Richard a new painting she'd acquired for the den, Daniel expressing an interest in seeing it as well and following them both. Robin makes his way back to the couch, slouching into the comfortable cushions and overly pleased when Regina plops down beside him, dropping her head to his shoulder briefly and staring into the flames.

"I'm so full. Daddy's gonna have to skip the cheesy potato casserole next year or I'll be a balloon."

Robin's shoulders shake in amusement as he angles his head down to look at her, catching the slight upturn of her lips. "You'd deprive me of my favorite dish? I wait all year for him to make that," Robin affronts as she shifts to sit a bit straighter, laughing at him.

"Fine, I'll let my figure suffer. But only for you." Regina teases him, grinning. Her expression morphs and she darts her gaze from Robin's face to over her shoulder and draws her legs up beneath her, knees bumping against his thigh as she turns to face him. "So," she begins, suddenly serious and curious as she asks, "what do you think of Daniel? You didn't say much to him while we were eating."

The abrupt shift in topic sours Robin's mood marginally. What does she want him to say? The guy seems nice enough, treats Regina well, respectfully, from what he's seen and she deserves that. Someone that makes her happy and makes her laugh. Whatever odd feelings of resentment that have been lurking beneath the surface since he'd arrived this evening toward the man don't really matter. Not in regards to Regina's happiness.

However, he can't quite bring himself to gush over the guy, instead answers, "Well, I don't really know him, but he seems alright, and you're parents like him. I've never seen Cora engage with anyone that much other than dad or Henry."

Regina frowns mildly, a small wrinkle forming between her eyebrows as she responds, "Yeah, which is great, but I was hoping that you two would hit it off." Moving to prop her elbow on the back of the sofa, Regina drops her head against her fist, surveying Robin as she tells him, "He's important to me, and you're my best friend. I want you two to get along."

There's so much innocent sincerity in her tone that Robin instantly feels guilty. He's not really given the guy a chance. That's unfair. To her and to Daniel. Especially if he really does mean that much to her. Though it's hard for Robin to think about Regina in a serious relationship, he supposes that it was bound to happen. That it's good for her to have someone she can count on when he's not around.

Maybe that's why he'd been so resentful of the guy all night. Robin doesn't want to lose his best friend. It's ridiculous to think he would. They've twenty odd years of friendship under their belt, weathered childhood and adolescence together, are navigating their way into adulthood, and have still managed to stay closer than ever. There's no reason at all to believe that any of that will change.

The least he can do is try.

Regina's waiting for him to respond and Robin shakes off his mental musings, smiles at her and tells her exactly what she wants to hear. "You're right. I'm sure he's great, I'll do better about trying to get to know him. I promise." He digs a finger into her side and Regina jumps expectedly, causes Robin to laugh as he adds, "Gotta make sure he's worthy of my favorite person."

"Thank you," she beams, that bubbly energy that she always has at Christmas coming back into her body as her attention shifts and she eyes the gifts under the tree. They'll start exchanging some of them in a little while. The ones they'd bought for Helen and Richard and vice versa.

Robin doesn't miss anything though and he grins at her and asks, "Want to open your present now?"

She starts to hesitate, denial on the tip of her tongue, before she swallows it back, glances behind her again and the laughter they can hear coming from their parents in the kitchen and admits quietly, conspiratorily, like they're back to being children and shaking the boxes beneath the tree to try and figure out what they held, "Yes."

He chuckles, rises off the couch and retrieves the tiny silver wrapped box that holds his gift to her this year, handing it over as he takes his place beside her again. Regina pulls the thin red ribbon instantly, working a finger beneath the edge of the paper as she grins at Robin.

When she pulls the lid off the box inside, revealing the beautiful wire wrapped pendant made of rich, turquoise sea glass, she gasps and lifts the necklace out of it's bed of velvet. "Oh, Robin, it's beautiful." Her dark eyes meet his and she looks so stunning and touched, his heart squeezes painfully in his chest for a moment.

"I found it in a little shop on campus. It reminded me of that summer we were eleven and we took that trip to the beach. How you and I spent hours hunting through the sand looking for stones like it because you wanted to find them all." Her eyes have gone a bit misty as memories of that vacation flicker through both of their minds, how much fun they'd had. "Anyway, I thought you would like it."

Regina's smile widens as she tells him, "I love it. Thank you, Robin," and leans forward to hook her arm around his neck, pulling him into a sideways hug. His own arm lifts and wraps around her back, holding her close and enjoying the embrace for a minute, happy she'd liked it so much. "Help me put it on!" Regina exclaims when they finally let each other go, twisting so her back is facing him and sweeping her hair up off her neck. Robin dutifully obliges, hooks the jewelry around her neck and then grins when she turns back around to show it off to him. "How does it look?"

"Lovely," Robin answers. A silent, _Just like you_ , whispering across his mind.

Henry and Helen come through the doorway then, each of them smiling at the sight of their children and oohing and awing over the necklace when Regina jumps up from the couch to show it off.

The rest of the group comes into the living room a few minutes later, and as Robin notes the way Daniel's eyes instantly find Regina, a joyous expression lighting up his face, Robin is reminded of his promise to her. Might as well start now.

"Daniel," Robin calls, garnering the other man's attention. "How about I show you how to pull a proper Christmas cracker. That hat's drooping a bit."

He laughs, agrees jokingly, "Sure, it's gotta be better than that thing you've got on your head." Then he and Robin are making their way back into the kitchen, ribbing each other, and he just catches a glimpse of Regina grinning at the two of them.

Whatever he's feeling, any doubts he has toward the man and his relationship with Regina, Robin will push aside. Because Regina is his best friend, one of the most important people in his life and he'd do anything for her. And this is what she wants. What's important to her. That's all that matters.

/ / /

A low bluesy collection of Christmas carols plays on the speaker in the background, fire crackling and bright, multicolor twinkle lights winking on the tree. The scent of pine and cinnamon mixes with crisp peppermint and the windows are lightly frosted from the chill outside. Easy conversation, light laughter, grinning faces.

The perfect, cozy Christmas. Just like every other year.

Except it's not.

They've expanded their count by one, the Locksleys openly welcoming the woman Robin's been seeing for nearly eight months now into their home for the holiday, sharing their rituals, embracing her wholeheartedly.

She likes Marian. She does. It's just that she doesn't seem good enough for Robin.

Sure, the woman appears to be perfect. Rich, caramel colored skin and long, wavy locks. A kind smile and laugh that sounds like it should belong to some Disney princess. Not to mention she's smart. Has a masters degree in social work and is working toward her PhD. The woman spends the majority of her time helping families and children in need. Honestly, she's a total catch.

And Regina will give her credit for the fact that she makes Robin happy. She hasn't seen him laugh or smile so much since they were carefree children, nary a worry in the world. For that alone, she's given Marian a chance. Wants to give her one still, but there's something about her that doesn't add up for Regina.

She can't picture her and Robin spending their life together. Not for the long haul. And there's been talk of that. Of engagements and marriage, of children. Never from Robin. He hasn't discussed any of that with her, bizarre considering how close they are if it's really something he truly wants, but she knows Helen is hoping for it, wants grandbabies to spoil. All of them are getting older, moving to new phases of their lives. It's not something she can blame the woman for. Regina had overheard her telling Henry only yesterday that if they keep it up at the rate they're going, she could be a grandmother within just a few short years.

Perhaps that's what's soured her mood this Christmas Eve.

She's sitting in the living room, nursing her third glass of merlot and listening to her mother talk about the architecture of the new community center, but the majority of her attention is focused on the couple tucked away together in the chair across the room. Marian sits on Robin's lap, engaging Helen in conversation over the recipe for her snickerdoodles (Robin's favorite) while he smiles on, absently rubbing his fingers up and down her back.

They make a lovely picture. With the fire burning beside them and the tree glittering in the corner of the room behind them, Henry and Richard in the doorway discussing something Regina can't quite make out. It's all a perfect image of a happy family during the holidays.

Suddenly, she feels lonely. Misses Daniel and the loss of what she'd hoped to have for their future. Evenings exactly like this one where he would have been the one nestled into her side, stroking a hand up and down her thigh or swinging his arm around her shoulders.

It's been years since they'd gone their separate ways. He'd gotten a job across the country and Regina had wanted to remain where they were, to continue her education. In the end, they hadn't been able to make it work, and it had broken her heart. But she's long since over it, hasn't thought about him that way in years now and the errant thought takes her by surprise.

Excusing herself from Cora's company, Regina quietly makes her way into the kitchen. They're at the Locksley's this year and she's as familiar with this room as she is with her own parent's kitchen. Heads directly toward the cabinet to the left of the sink and reaches for a glass, turning to the tap and pouring a large glass of water. Maybe the wine's gone to her head and brought on this unwelcome sense of melancholy.

Regina's downed half the glass when she hears familiar footfalls behind her.

"What's wrong?" Robin asks settling himself on the barstool opposite her at the counter.

Doing her best to be cheerful, Regina answers him with a confused crinkle between her brow, a tilt to her head. "Nothing. Everything's great. Why would you think otherwise?"

Unfortunately for her, Robin's not buying it, simply gives her a stern, "Regina. I know you too well for that. What's bothering you?"

She lets out a weary sigh. So much for keeping anything from him. Not that she's ever been able to do that, even when she's really trying. Robin's always been able to read her like an open book. It's one of the things that's made their friendship so strong, one of the reasons it's lasted as long as it has over the years. "It's nothing. I promise. Just feeling a little blue. You should go back in with Marian and your family."

"They're your family, too," Robin counters, rising to his feet and rounding the island to stand beside her. "And we can't have you feeling that way, not today." He lays his hands on each of her shoulders and turns her to face him, expression serious as he says, "Where's that Christmas spirit? I want smiles and drunken carols. Don't make me get dad to start up a round of _A Holly Jolly Christmas_. And if you've been a very good girl, Santa might let you open your gift from me early."

The ridiculousness of that last statement does the trick, causes the corners of her lips to twitch and eventually form into a full smile as she laughs at him. Memories of their time as kids, and whispered fears in the dark of night soothed by the man before her, come rushing back to her.

"I'm afraid I've been quite naughty this year, I may have fallen out of Santa's good graces."

Robin grins, wiggles his eyebrows at her and his dimples are adorably lined on his face. "Have you now? Regina Mills," he pauses dramatically, impishly, "have you been off having illicit adventures and not telling me about them? How am I supposed to have any fun if you don't invite me along?"

It works. Robin's tricked a full fledged smile out of her as she shakes her head at him and some of the tension that had abruptly crawled beneath her skin eases. She's not done anything in the last few months he doesn't already know about. Even as they've gotten older, the two of them still carve out time for one another. Sure, they're both busy with work and other friends, the trials of adulthood, but they have their weekly lunch dates at Granny's Dinner and always chat throughout the week. They keep each other up to date on the going ons of their lives.

Their friendship is too important to the both of them to let it fall by the wayside of life's chaos.

"Seriously, though," Robin says, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and runs his fingers down her jaw, an instinctive shiver coursing down her spine that Regina has to fight against. "I'll not have you sad on Christmas. And just because Marian's here doesn't mean I don't have time for you if you need to talk. You know that."

Regina lets out a soft breath of air. She does know that. And the knowledge acts as a balm to the aching onslaught of loneliness that had overcome her. It's been the same their whole lives and nothing could be more comforting to her right now. No matter what or who comes or goes from their lives, she'll always have Robin.

"I do. Thank you," she mutters sincerely, and nothing else need be said between them. Robin simply smiles, nods and then reaches out a hand to tug on one of hers, dragging her the few steps needed so that he can hug his arms around her.

For a few minutes they're wrapped up in each other, the comforting embrace of a friend to a friend, and Regina allows herself a moment to tuck her face into Robin's chest. She just barely reaches over the top of his shoulder and her head fits perfectly beneath his chin as he squeezes her. It's exactly what she'd needed.

Helen chooses that moment to pop her head into the kitchen, leaning around the entrance way, "You kids alright in here?" She hesitates at the sight of them and the two quickly let go of one another. It's silly, really. They'd been doing nothing wrong, but Regina feels like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar as those clear blue eyes study them with a peculiar expression.

"Yeah, everything's fine, Mum. We'll be back in a minute."

The older woman nods, turns back around, and Regina nearly laughs at the absurdity of it all. She's being ridiculous and Robin has a girlfriend waiting for him. Giving him a gentle shove, Regina tells him, "You go on. I'm fine now. Just gonna get another drink, then I'll be back in." Her voice turns teasing when she adds, "And I expect that present waiting for me when I get there."

Chuckling, Robin agrees, walking backward out of the room as he informs her, "Santa's elves already left it beneath the tree."

. . .

The rest of the evening passes normally.

It's not long before Regina, Henry, and Cora find themselves bidding everyone goodbye around midnight. Hugs and kisses, promises to see them if not in the next few days then for New Years Eve. Everyone wishes each other a Merry Christmas and then the three of them are headed home.

Regina's apartment is only a short half hour drive from her parent's house, but it's always easier for her to stay with them during the holidays rather than return to her own place. Allows for them to wake up in the morning and exchange gifts in their pajamas, Henry cooking them all breakfast and then spending the day curled up on the couch watching the classic Christmas movies, just like when she'd been little. A habit Cora has never been able to break them of even when she insists upon having a proper, formal holiday by the time the evening rolls around.

However, she's still a little restless hours after her parents have gone to bed, and she's no longer a child. So Regina's snuck downstairs, is rummaging through the tin of sweets Robin's mother had sent home with them when the kitchen light flickers on and she jumps, her father's amused chuckle just managing to calm her racing heart. "Daddy! You startled me." She laughs, biting her bottom lip guiltily.

"Sneaking cookies, I see."

"Maybe," Regina shrugs, narrows her eyes at him for a second and questions, "What are you doing down here?"

Henry smirks, pads quietly over to the table and takes the seat adjacent to her, nabbing a chocolate chip from the pile on the plate and informing her, "Same as you."

Her laughter is soft and indulgent. She is her father's daughter after all. Rising to walk to the refrigerator, Regina goes about pouring each of them a glass of milk. Might as well have a proper midnight snack as it seems neither of them can sleep.

She's just returning to the table, setting down the glass when Henry comments, "Helen mentioned she found you with Robin in the kitchen earlier, that it looked like you guys were having a serious moment. Everything alright with you two?"

He says it casually, but there's a hint of something beneath the surface, some inflection to the question that Regina can't quite decipher. Settling in again, Regina replies, "It's fine. He just came to check on me. Nothing important." Henry hums consideringly, chewing, and Regina slants her head at him. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," he responds once he's swallowed his mouthful of dough and chocolate, washing it down with a gulp of milk, leaving a stain over his mustache that Regina giggles at and leans forward to swipe her napkin over. "I just noticed you were a bit tense this evening, that's all. Not your usual self. I wondered if perhaps it had anything to do with Robin's young lady joining us."

Damn. Apparently she's more transparent than she thought. Or at least she is to her father. Regina can only hope that no one else had noticed the root of her discomfort earlier in the evening.

Buying herself a bit of time, Regina nibbles on another cookie, letting the rich, decadent flavor melt on her tongue, and takes a drink from her glass. Henry doesn't say anything, sits there as if content whether she responds or not, and it's so like him. Letting her voice whatever is weighing on her mind in her own due time.

Unsurprisingly, she breaks. Admits quietly, "Maybe a little." It's not a topic of discussion Regina particularly wants to engage in with her father, though. So she tacks on, "But only because it made me wish I had someone to share the holiday with, too. It's been a long time since I cared for anyone the way Robin cares for Marian. It just makes me wonder if I'll ever find that again."

"That's all it is?" he asks, drinking down a fourth of his glass.

"What else could it be?"

Henry studies her with knowing eyes like he can see down into her soul, an expression she can't quite puzzle out on his features and the seconds drag on. The fridge buzzes softly, and she can hear the steady clicking of the grandfather clock from the foyer echoing in the absolute stillness of the rest of the house while she waits for him to respond to her. "Nothing," he eventually replies, shaking his head, as if he's come to a decision about something.

She wants to question him more, to discover what he'd been thinking while the wheels had so clearly been turning in his head, but a part of her is afraid of what his answer might be. A subconscious self preservation that she won't acknowledge as existing.

Because Marian makes Robin happy and that's what's most important.

He reaches out to pat a hand over hers on the table, assuring her, "You're young. You'll find someone to love again, Regina. I'm sure of it. Just be patient. He's probably closer than you think." Henry stands, leans over and presses a kiss to Regina's head like she's six years old again as he informs her he's going up to bed and wishes her goodnight before exiting the room. Leaving her alone with her thoughts.

As Regina busies herself cleaning up, she mulls over the strangeness of the evening. The odd, unfamiliar feelings. But it's nearly two in the morning and she needs rest. It's something to consider another day.

Making her way quietly back to the room she'd spent almost all of her childhood in, she thinks this has certainly turned out to be one of the more peculiar Christmases they've had.

/ / /

It's freezing. Frigid air whips around her, causing her cheeks to sting and her limbs to feel clumsy even through the layers of her thick knit sweater and wool coat. Burrowing further into the scarf wrapped around her neck, Regina waves at the lovely cab driver that had dropped her off and strides toward the front door.

Anticipation churns in her gut as she marches up the walk of the familiar brownstone. The Locksley's home for the last twenty-five years.

She wasn't supposed to be here at all. An essential business trip she hadn't been able to avoid or reschedule had come up last minute and required her presence across the coast for the last week and a half. But she's managed it. Had miraculously found a late flight out this afternoon and an early one leaving tomorrow morning. It's not much. Not even twenty-four hours home, but absolutely worth it to be able to spend Christmas with her family.

It just hadn't felt right. Not being with her parents or Richard and Helen. Or Robin. Not spending the holiday with him, all of them, had been unconscionable. Unthinkable. There hasn't been a year the six of them haven't spent Christmas together since she was born, and Regina sure as hell isn't going to break a tradition over three decades old now.

There's more to it. A realization that's been growing for months now. Maybe even years. Something Regina doesn't dare put any stock or hope into. It won't go anywhere. Can't go anywhere. They're friends. Best friends. Two halves of the other, joined at the hip from infancy to adulthood, but it's never been anything more than that.

Sure, there's been the occasional occurrences over the years where she's questioned whether she might feel more for him. If, perhaps, they could have something more. Moments of tension or jealousy that may have caused her to question the nature of their relationship. But it's always been quickly buried, hidden in a quiet pocket of her heart that she hasn't allowed herself to delve too deeply into. Robin's too important to her, his friendship too valued for her to do anything that might jeopardize that.

When she thinks back on it now, that night all those months ago that had been the beginning of this gradual cognizance, it's rather silly. But then, life often takes one by surprise when you least expect it, she supposes. That's the nature of things. Though this curveball had been a shock.

Robin had come over for dinner one Saturday evening, just as he's done a million times before, nothing out of the ordinary. They'd had wine, and her amazing lasagna, good conversation as they'd chatted about their weeks. The two of them had settled into the living room for a movie afterward, a way for them to unwind and enjoy each other's company for a while longer. Robin had drawn her feet into his lap and casually started massaging them, nothing strange considering she'd been complaining about the heels she'd bought the weekend before and worn for work the last several days.

But sitting there in her home, Robin next to her as they quietly joked about the predictable nature of the film, laughing over something stupid the protagonist had said, Regina had realized that she hadn't wanted him to leave. Didn't want to go upstairs to her empty bed alone after such a lovely evening.

It had felt right. Being at home with him. Like something she'd been missing in her life had clicked into place. All of a sudden, images of their past, times in their relationship, had taken on a different hue, as if looking through a new lens to form something entirely different to what she's always believed it to be. She'd been able to imagine sharing her life with him, as something more than her best friend. Curling up and cuddling with him, kissing him, making love to him. In the span of a heartbeat, their ease and closeness had taken on a new light.

For more years than she can remember, Regina has always loved Robin. As a friend, a confidant. The person that she trusts more than anyone else in the world. In fear of risking that, she'd ignored her feelings of attraction, the occasional times when they'd share a moment that felt a bit _too_ personal, too intimate for mere friendship, had rejected the notion entirely and the intensity would fade.

Even as it's become more and more difficult to deny the last several months, Regina hasn't really let herself consider the possibility. Hasn't given herself leave to imagine what it would be like to pursue a romantic relationship with him. Besides, she's positive that Robin doesn't return her feelings. And it's better this way. Not to rock the boat. To stay merely friends who can rely and count on each other for anything. She can live quietly with her feelings and never give them voice.

Regardless, no matter what way she spins it, she'd wanted to spend the holiday with Robin. Had needed it. So here she is.

Coming to a halt on the porch, Regina lifts a knuckle and rapts at the front door, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet to ward off the cold. She hears the muffled sounds of movement from inside, and her face is already set in a huge grin as the sounds of the lock clicking open lead to the red door swinging back. "Surprise!"

Robin stands before her, slack jawed and in shock, while his eyes rake up and down her body. It's a full thirty seconds before he recovers enough to exclaim, "Regina!" and pull her into his arms, enveloping her in his warmth and pulling her in from the blazing winter outside.

The scent of pine and chestnuts fills her nostrils, and Regina inhales it as she tucks her face into the crook of Robin's neck. It smells like home and she feels tears prick behind her eyelids as the pair of them stand there, wrapped up in each other for longer than an ordinary greeting would warrant.

His hand strokes up and down her back, the other at the back of her head, fingers threaded slightly through her dark locks before he's laughing and pulling back enough that he can look her in the eyes. "What are you doing here?! You said you couldn't get away. That you wouldn't be able to come."

She can hear both the disappointment and the elation in his voice over this turn of events and Regina smiles even wider as she answers, "I found a way to make it work. Though it's not very long. I've got to get back tomorrow morning." There's a pause, a few seconds where the two of them simply take each other in, grinning stupidly, before she admits, "But I couldn't not be home for Christmas."

Robin brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes and smiles at her, his dimples deep and charming as he tells her, "I'm so happy you're here. Tonight hasn't felt right without you."

The easy statement, the honesty laced in his tone, nearly makes her want to cry all over again, but Regina resists. A million responses race through her mind, however, before she can settle on any of them, their reunion is interrupted.

"Robin, who is it?" Helen's voice sounds from deeper in the house, and she can hear Christmas music playing from the direction of the living room. When the woman, who's been like a second mother to her, walks into the hallway and spies them standing in the doorway, a huge smile erupting on her features, Regina's heart swells. "Oh, Regina!"

Then she's rushing the short distance toward her, enveloping her in another hug and Regina laughs as she returns the embrace. As Helen fusses over her, chiding Robin for not shutting out the cold, and then dragging Regina into the living room where she's warmly embraced by her parents and Robin's father as well, Regina relishes in the feeling of being home.

. . .

She's here. It's all Robin can think as Regina helps his mother in the kitchen with the last few finishing touches for dinner, laughing with her father and sipping on wine while she tosses the salad. When she'd broken the news that she wouldn't be able to make it home for Christmas, he'd been devastated. Had been hiding it well enough, or at least he'd tried, not wanting her to feel any worse than she already did, but he'd been rather miserable over it.

Even the familiar joy and laughter produced by his parents and Regina's on Christmas Eve hadn't been enough to completely mask his dour mood. Robin had put on a smiling face, but beneath the surface, the ache of missing his best friend had been an anvil on his chest.

All of that is behind them now. They can enjoy their evening, celebrate the holiday for the brief time that Regina's here and all will be well. Exactly as it's supposed to be. He dutifully helps his father transfer bowls and platters into the dining room until they all settle around the table for dinner. It passes by far too quickly and before he knows it, they're clearing plates, and debating the merits of dessert now or after they open gifts.

With their parents distracted, Robin catches Regina's gaze and she's looking at him intently, jerking her head in the direction of the hallway with a small tilt to her lips. He nods as they sneak off for a minute alone.

"What's up?" Robin asks once they're away from the commotion in the kitchen.

Turning to face him, Robin notes a slight blush coloring Regina's cheeks as she bites her bottom lip, teeth digging into her flesh temptingly. It's an expression rarely seen on her face and she looks so adorable, Robin silently vows to find ways to make her blush more often.

Finally, she utters softly, "I know it was agreed upon that we would do secret santa this year between every one, but I drew your mom, and, well, I couldn't help getting you something also. I've actually had it for about six months now." Regina admits, turning to walk to where she's left her carry on near the doorway.

Robin watches as she unzips the front pocket, pulling out a narrow, rectangular shaped package, the bow slightly squished, but still mostly intact. "You didn't have to do that, Regina. You being here is the best Christmas gift I could have gotten," he tells her. Though, he's stashed a gift for her under the tree also, one he'd been planning to give her when she'd returned from her trip next week. So he supposes they are both guilty of breaking the rules.

"I know," Regina says, handing him the present, "but I found this and it was perfect for you and I had to get it."

He takes the offered gift, running his thumb over the shiny Christmas wrap for a second before he starts to unwrap it, eyes flicking up to glance at Regina's face all the while. She's watching him anxiously, anticipation written all over her features, and Robin draws the process out a tad, teasing her until she scolds him.

Chuckling, Robin crumples the paper in his palm and turns over the book inside. Then his mind goes blank for a minute as he realizes what he's holding. It's a first edition copy of _A Christmas Carol_ , one of his favorite novels. He'd casually mentioned looking for one around this time last year and he's yet to find one, but here it is.

His clear blue eyes lift to her dark brown ones and she's still watching him, a smile on her face as she waits for his reaction. "Do you like it?" She asks.

"Of course!" Robin exclaims, "I love it! Thank you." He reaches one arm out and hooks it around her shoulders, tugging her in for a hug, rocking them both for a minute as she muffles a laugh against his chest. "Where did you find it?" Robin questions when they separate, running a finger over the leather cover and the gold leaf lettering admiringly.

"I came across it this summer at that little bookshop on West Street. It was mismatched in the nonfiction section and it seemed like fate. I remember you saying you wanted it, so I thought it was perfect."

"It is, "Robin assures, smiling stupidly down at her, thanking her again. "My gift to you seems a bit lackluster in comparison now."

Regina shakes her head, "I'm sure it's wonderful."

Robin grins conspiratorially at her and confesses, "I didn't draw you either, but there's one under the tree for you. Should we go pick it out before everyone else comes in?" She nods and Robin grabs her hand, threading their fingers together as he pulls her down the hallway into the living room.

. . .

Now that their Christmas exchange is concluded and everyone's awed over their presents for the year, there's nothing left for them to do for the rest of the evening but relax and enjoy each other's company. To pause and take advantage of the fact that they're all together.

Her whole body feels full, stuffed and nourished, the wine she's been drinking since her arrival making her limbs feel heavy. There's a warm fire in the hearth that heats the entire room, and as Regina reclines on the couch beside Robin, watching the flames flicker and burn, contentment settles over her. Closing her eyes, for, what she tells herself is just a minute, Regina lays her head down on Robin's shoulder.

His wool sweater is soft and warm also, and his hand pats absently at her knee. She listens to her father and Richard debating what movie they should put on, the standard argument between _It's a Wonderful Life_ and _Christmas Vacation_ that they have every year. Mother and Helen are admiring the vase her father had gifted her mother and it's all so normal, expected, that Regina lets herself relax entirely.

It's been a long few weeks, work bustling and endless hours meeting with clients and colleagues for that final end of the year push. She hasn't had a chance to just stop and rest like this since before Thanksgiving and it's wonderful.

Before she knows it, she's drifted off to sleep. Dozing on Robin's shoulder until his rich timbre whispers in her ear, a hand on her bicep shaking her arm slightly as he murmurs, "Regina, wake up." Grumbling sleepily, Regina shifts, turns her body into the warmth of Robin's arm and side and rubs her cheek against his shoulder. She's so comfortable and Robin smells so nice. Like pine and Christmas cookies and she sleepily wonders whether he's snuck more of his mother's snickerdoodles as she inches back toward slumber.

His chuckle jostles her a bit, and Regina frowns even as he urges her to open her eyes softly. Fighting her heavy eyelids, Regina slits them barely open, slowly letting her vision adjust to her surroundings. It's nearly the same, though their parents are gone and the fire has died some, closer to embers now rather than roaring as it had been the last she'd remembered.

"What time is it?" She mumbles, placing a hand on Robin's thigh and pushing herself into more of a sitting position, supporting her own weight rather than letting Robin do it.

He's grinning at her, those dimples she loves creasing his features, as he answers, "It's a little after midnight. Your mom's ready to leave."

"I take it that means Richard won the movie pick this year," Regina comments, stretching her limbs and working out a few of the kinks from falling asleep in the position she had. Her muscles burn pleasantly for a minute and then she's tilting her head and looking at Robin a bit more clearly.

"Bingo," Robin chortles, laying his arm over the back of the couch behind her and rubbing a thumb absentmindedly over the shoulder she has leaning against the cushions, moving up a bit and kneading at the back of her neck. It feels amazing and Regina nearly moans out loud when he does. "I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did this year."

Regina smiles, unsuccessfully attempts to stifle a yawn. "I suppose that's my cue to go. I have to leave for the airport in six hours." Her face twists into a scowl at that, she's not looking forward to having to travel again so soon after arriving. But, there's not much she can do about it. Work demands her attention.

"Do you have someone taking you?" Robin asks, habitually lifts a hand to brush the hair around her face behind her ear. "I can do it if you need."

Nodding, Regina replies, "Daddy said he would drive me. But it means we should probably get home." The idea of leaving, of their Christmas being over, depresses her some. The few hours with Robin and her family had been well worth it, though.

"Indeed." Robin stands, holds out a hand to her and Regina takes it easily, lets him pull her to her feet and then immediately into a hug. "Merry Christmas," he murmurs, holding her tightly.

"Merry Christmas, Robin." There's a pang in her heart, that troublesome desire to stay in his arms forever that has become nearly impossible to silence, but Regina ignores it. Returns his sentiment and lets herself relish the feeling of being held by him for another minute.

. . .

Tonight's been wonderful. Having Regina here, his family all together. Robin couldn't have asked for anything more to celebrate the holiday. He hadn't wanted it to end, wishes he could have found any way to prolong the evening for just a tad longer. Would have happily sat on the couch watching a movie he knows by heart as she'd slept on his shoulder for the entire night. But they'll catch up in a week when she's home for good again. Not long at all, really.

Robin's thinking of their New Year's plans as he shuffles leftovers into containers and piles plates and pans into the sink when Helen walks in.

"It's lucky that Regina could manage to make it home. Even just for the night." His mother's voice is soft and sweet as Robin glances back over his shoulder at Helen from where he's dealing with the dishes they'd left soaking in the sink earlier.

"Yeah," Robin replies, turning back to scrape a bit of food off the plate he holds into the bin and then running the water over it to load in the dishwasher. "It wasn't going to be the same without her. Didn't feel right before, but it ended up being perfect."

Helen hums, striding further into the kitchen and busying herself, helping her son, nabbing the leftover containers, and turning to place them into the refrigerator. For a minute it's soundless, each of them going about their tasks before she speaks, asks curiously, almost conversationally, "Don't you think it might be more than that?"

"More how?" Robin questions, turning his head to look at her.

Helen smiles, that motherly, knows-all-sees-all type of smile that even to this day baffles him before she blows him away by answering, "Robin, when are you going to realize you're in love with her?"

Robin stares at her, stunned into silence by what she's said as Helen merely gives him a bemused expression and waits patiently. It's a full minute before he recovers enough to stutter out, "What— what are you talking about? Regina and I are just friends, Mum. You know that."

"Do I?" Helen comments, a smirk quirking the corner of her lips as she leans a hip against the counter. "I know that you care about her. More than anyone else in the world. That you'd do anything for her."

Frowning, Robin says, "Of course I would. She's my best friend, but that's… it's just the way we are. We've always been close. It's never been more than that."

"You've never allowed yourself to see it as more. That doesn't mean that it's not there." Helen counters wisely, years of experience, of observation and knowledge, coloring her authority on the matter. "I've watched you both since you were born, watched you grow and mature into two loving, well adjusted, supportive people."

Pausing, she grins at him, clearly amused by this entire conversation, and continues, "I've also watched the both of you always come back to each other. It's always been the two of you. There's been other relationships for you both, serious ones, casual ones, but it's never changed the bond you two have." Moving to rub a hand down his bicep, Helen plays her final trump card, "It's never altered the way you both look at each other when you don't realize anyone is watching. I know something's kept the both of you from settling down. A part of me can't help but think it's because you're waiting for each other."

Robin gapes at her, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tries to think up a response. Is she right? Is that what his and Regina's relationship has become? Surely, he would have realized his feelings sooner if it was. Granted, she's a beautiful woman. The most stunning woman he's ever seen, but she's his closest friend, his oldest friend. He doesn't think of her that way.

Except for those pesky times when she brushes up against him, always innocently, but it makes his heart leap painfully in his breastbone nonetheless. Or when she tucks her nose against his chest and he can smell the crisp apple scent of her shampoo. When her dark chocolate eyes sparkle and it makes his entire being happy just looking at her. Or when she laughs and everything about her lights up.

So if he's being truly honest with himself, Robin supposes it's not as if he's _never_ thought of her that way. He's just always pushed it away, dismissed it as a fleeting sensation and focused on their friendship. Rather that than risk losing her. Right?

Still lost in thought, Robin's yet to respond when Helen smiles at him knowingly, leans forward and kisses his cheek. "Just something to think about, Robin," she offers. "How much more time do you want to waste?" Before she thanks him for cleaning up, wishes him goodnight and a Merry Christmas and heads upstairs.

. . .

It's a short drive home to his apartment, but as he makes his way through the familiar streets and his windshield wipers blink against the light snow fall coming down, Robin's mind is utterly occupied. All through his nightly routine, even after he climbs into bed and switches off the light, he can't get it out of his thoughts.

In love.

With _Regina_.

Robin tosses and turns, tries to shut his mind off but to no avail. Memories of the last thirty some years flashing through his mind. Running through the backyard and pushing her on the swings when they'd been ten. Plotting jokes on their parents at thirteen. That kiss beneath the mistletoe when he'd been sixteen. Then that one at nighteen as the clock had struck midnight on a new year.

Holding back her hair as she'd tossed up her dinner after her first foray with alcohol visiting him his freshman year. The two weeks they'd spent exploring Europe together the summer he'd been twenty. Helping her move into her own apartment when she'd been twenty-four. When she'd gotten her first big job after graduate school and they'd gone out to celebrate. She'd decorated his office for him when he'd started his business at twenty-eight.

Endless moments throughout his life that Regina has been there for. A constant support. Always a pillar of strength for him when he's needed it. Truthfully, they've both been there for each other through every major milestone and accomplishment. A rock.

As the minutes on the clock tick by and his mind still won't rest, Robin ponders what his mother has said.

 _I know something's kept the both of you from settling down._

He supposes that's true. Robin thinks of the relationships he's had. His girlfriend in highschool, the girls he'd dated in college and the smattering of dates he'd gone on for the few years after he'd graduated. Nothing ever really sticking. There'd never been any serious relationship for him, not really, until he'd met Marian. And then he'd been crazy about her, head over heels in love.

 _Waiting for each other._

Is that what had happened? Robin had always believed that he and Marian had simply grown apart, outgrown each other. They'd become complacent with one another and she'd wanted more. Had wanted to get married and start a family and Robin hadn't been ready. Hadn't even been thirty yet and the thought of settling down and committing himself that way had seemed like a step he wasn't ready to take just yet.

Had he really only been waiting for Regina?

 _It's never altered the way you both look at each other when you don't realize anyone is watching._

Could Regina possibly feel this way, too? Have they both been blind?

Robin turns onto his other side, facing the clock on his bedside table that now reads 5:53. Groaning, he blinks his eyes, they feel like sandpaper and his limbs are heavy and limp. His entire body aches from lack of sleep but his mind is still reeling.

 _When are you going to realize you're in love with her?_

God, he's an idiot.

Of course he's in love with her. Apparently, he always has been. If you asked him to pinpoint a specific moment of when it had happened Robin wouldn't be able to answer, but thinking back on it now, it's blatantly obvious to him. His heart belongs to Regina and it has since they were children. It's just taken him three damn decades to figure it out.

For another few minutes, Robin lays there on his back, staring up at his ceiling as he contemplates what he does now. He's realized he's in love with his best friend and hasn't a clue how she feels.

And she leaves to go across the country for another week in less than two and a half hours. Panic seizes Robin for a second, jagged clutches in this belly as he realizes he can't wait that long to talk about this. And it's most certainly a conversation to be had in person. But a week is too long. Enough time for him to second guess himself, to question if this is the best thing for their friendship or if it could potentially ruin it all.

That's what's kept them in this limbo for this long as it is.

No, he has to go now. Before he loses his nerve.

Rolling out of bed, Robin rushes to his closet, tossing on the first shirt that he spies and shrugging into it. Grabs a pair of jeans and tugs them up his legs hastily. If he leaves now, he can probably catch her at the airport. She'd said she was leaving at six. He can make it, can find her before she gets through security if he hurries.

In less than ten minutes he's out the door, driving through the snow covered roads as best he can. He hasn't a clue what he's going to say once he finds her, only the belief that the right words will come to him when it's time.

Robin makes it to the airport just after six forty-five and quickly parks and runs through the lot toward the entrance. Coming to a halt before the departures board, he frantically scans the list of outgoing flights for her location, hoping there's only one scheduled to leave at that time. When he spots it, he's running toward the terminal, heart pounding anxiously as his eyes scan everyone he passes.

There are hoards of people and faces he doesn't recognize as he searches for Regina's familiar, dark locks, or that bright red pea coat. Anything. He's nearing security now and wishes desperately that he's not too late, that he hasn't missed her yet when he spies her, stopped off to the side and studying her ticket.

Breathing in relief, he shouts, "Regina!" still sprinting toward her as she spins around on her heel.

When he comes to a halt in front of her, she questions, "Robin, what are you doing here?"

"I love you," Robin gasps, a touch out of breath, his chest heaving as he tries to draw air into his lungs. And that hadn't quite been the route he'd intended to go, plan or no plan, but he supposes it works. Straight to the point.

She gives him a puzzled expression, utterly confused, though there's something else in her eyes, too. Weariness, perhaps. Or dare he think, hope, as she tilts her head and responds, "I love you, too. How does that explain what you're doing here at seven o'clock in the morning? I've got a flight to catch."

But even as she's questioning him further, Robin is shaking his head, lets out a near hysterical laugh as he realizes the absurdity of this situation. He's chased her down at the airport on Christmas morning to proclaim his undying love her for. It's every clichéd romantic scenario in the book, yet here they are. After tossing and turning all night, the gradual realization that she means everything to him, that he's been a fool for more years than he can count, he can't allow another moment to pass by without telling her.

It could be the most moronic thing he's ever done, risking their friendship. One they've spent three decades building and nurturing. But his mother is right. What if they're missing out on more? What if their relationship could prove to be even richer, stronger than it already is? What if they could have another fifty years of bliss together?

Is he willing to settle for something as tame as friendship when it feels as if his very soul and hers are connected? Always have been.

The answer is no. Not without at least giving it a shot.

So he'll stand here and make a fool of himself, will shout his love for this woman from the rooftops if she'll let him and pray that by some miracle, Regina feels the same.

Shaking his head, Robin counters, "No, no. I am _in_ love with you, Regina. I think I have been for a very long time and I was too scared of losing your friendship that I buried it. Went on living my life." He pauses to take a breath, notes the way her eyes have gone a bit glassy as he steps closer to her and grips each of her hands in his.

His thumbs stroke along the outside of her palms, still chilled from the winter bite outside and he smiles at her, that gorgeous dimpled grin. "But you are everything to me. My best friend, the person I want to share the highs and lows of life with. You're the person that I come to when I need advice or the one I want to tell when something amazing happens. It's been that way for as long as I can remember and I was an idiot not to realize what that meant sooner."

Regina's gaping at him, eyes filled with unshed tears, silent as Robin confesses his feelings to her, but now that he's begun, he can't quite seem to stem the well of words inside him. "I want a life with you, Regina Mills," Robin confesses, lifting a hand to brush an errant lock of hair behind her ear, the tips of his fingers skimming along her cheek adoringly. "I want to hold you and kiss you. I want to make love with you and feel you in my arms. I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life. Have children, grow old with you. All of it."

Nerves are like a vice grip around his middle, his stomach jittery as he reveals everything he'd realized during his sleepless night. Everything that had been lurking in his subconscious for years. And she still hasn't said anything. Merely studies him as he pours his heart out so that Robin can't help but rock back and forth on his feet a bit, fidgeting.

"So what do you say?" he finally asks, hope a perilous emotion.

Regina continues to stare at him for what feels like an eternity. Seconds ticking by at the speed of a snail. Those rich, chocolate colored eyes wide and bewildered. Hopefully that's a good sign, that he's not blundering this all up. As one lone tear escapes, rolling down her cheek, Robin feels a moment of hesitation. Then she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, capturing Robin's mouth with hers. Everything inside him sparks and pulses as he embraces her fully, kisses her back and she fits herself perfectly to him. Like two puzzle pieces locking into place.

Her tongue runs along the seam of his lips and Robin's mouth opens to her happily, sweeping his own through hers, letting the rich flavor of her explode on his tongue. With a groan, he pulls her impossibly closer, cursing the layers of clothes and outerwear that keep him from feeling more of her, fisting his hand at the small of her back.

She tastes amazing. Like mint and vanilla coffee and something that's entirely Regina that has him addicted with this one sampling. When she moans into his mouth, her lips firm against his before she breaks away with a gasp of air, Robin could just about rejoice.

"Yes," Regina answers, breath washing hotly over his mouth as her forehead rests against his. "Oh god, this is insane. Yes, yes. I love you, too. Robin—"

He doesn't give her the chance to say anything else, fuses their mouths together for another deep, glorious kiss. It feels right. Like everything he's been waiting for in his life. As if the earth and stars have finally aligned and Robin curses himself for taking so long. For not having this sooner.

Maybe it's all about timing.

And now is their time.

 _All I Want For Christmas_ plays over the speakers in the airport as the two of them are wrapped up together, blissfully oblivious to the harried, disgruntled passengers forced to travel on a holiday that shuffle hastily around them, lost entirely in each other. But as Regina melts further into him, drawing his mouth back to hers for a slower, deeper kiss, Robin absently thinks it's fitting of the moment.

Because after thirty-two Christmases spent together, they've finally realized that all they've ever really wanted is each other.


End file.
